


Debts are Always Paid - Cullrian

by mnemosius



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dorian is kidnapped and rescued, Happy Ending, M/M, Torture, Violence, and terrifyingly deadly, vivienne is a queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosius/pseuds/mnemosius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon prompted me for Cullen being protective after Dorian is kidnapped and tortured by the Red Templars. I fiddled with the prompt a bit, and this was the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debts are Always Paid - Cullrian

When the Inquisitor’s party came back from Crestwood without a certain Tevinter mage, it wasn’t Trevelyan who Cullen found waiting for him in his office. It was Vivienne. The elegant woman took no time in getting to the point, her features as cooly unaffected as always, but Cullen knew those eyes, eyes that burned with barely-contained fury.

“The Red Templars have him,” Vivienne said simply. “He used haste magic to allow the rest of us to escape after we were nearly beaten, but the price of it was to slow himself down along with them. The Inquisitor will no doubt lead forces to personally rescue Dorian as soon as Leliana is able to locate them, but it has been two days already. I do not believe we have that time.”

“I…” Cullen’s head was spinning. Dorian was missing? It was only so many days ago that they had lain together in bed, Cullen reveling in the mage’s smile, in the soft way he had called him Amatus. “I must prepare the soldiers, then.”

Vivienne looked at him, then, her gaze seeming to pierce through him. “My dear Commander, we don’t have the time. Every moment wasted is another in which he is tortured - and quite brutally, I imagine. And that foolish man risked his own life to save us, to save me. I will not owe a debt to a dead man?, or I will never be able to repay it.”

She paused for a moment and Cullen saw the flicker of emotion that ran across her flawless features, if only for a moment. Then the moment passed, and she looked at him again, her brown eyes knowing.

“And you love him, don’t you, Commander. I can see it. So I am asking you to help me to save Dorian, now, and quickly. Leliana refuses to allow the Inquisitor to leave without proper protection, but I am under no such obligation. Neither is that demon-child, Cole. He insists he can help. We leave now. I suggest you join.”

Cullen took one final moment to grasp the situation, and then snapped into action. He grabbed his shield from beneath his desk, and wrote down a note to slap on his desk, naming Cassandra in charge for the time being. Dorian was in danger, and nothing else mattered.

“Have you managed to find a way to locate him, then?” Cullen asked, quickly checking over the straps on his armor. He was ready.

“I have,” the First Enchanter said, “but the nature of the act is extremely dangerous. This is why I offer this chance to you, and not the Inquisitor. I intend to follow the strains of the magic Dorian cast on me, back to the source - back to where Dorian remains. The spell will move us briefly through the Fade to get there. It will be painful, though Cole says he can prevent it from hurting too much. The real risk,” she said, “lies in what may be on the other side of us. We will almost certainly be attacked by Templars.”

“I don’t care,” Cullen said flatly, ignoring the shiver that ran through his soul at the thought of the Fade, again. “They have taken red lyrium; they are shells of men, now. If I know any of the faces of those I kill, I will mourn them later. Dorian must be safe first, and those who have hurt him must die.”

“Good,” Vivienne said approvingly. “Hold on to that anger. It will fuel you through the pain we both must endure.”

“I won’t let them hurt Dorian,” Cole said from where he suddenly stood next to Cullen. Cullen’s pulse leapt for a moment and Vivienne’s eyes widened.

“Red light, red rot. Red lines across my back from a snake’s tail. They think they can break me. My only heart, my only hurt, is far deeper in than that. They cannot touch me. I will see my Lion again.” He turned to face Cullen. “We need to help him now. There’s not much time left.”

Vivienne’s hands lay on both their shoulders. “Hold tight, now. This will hurt.”

Cullen tightened his jaw, and then everything was too bright, everything hurt, and then everything was gray and full of whispers. The pain almost sent him to his knees, waves of it running roughshod through his body, but Cole’s hand on his arm kept him standing, along with the sight of Vivienne next to him, standing proud and tall, a line of blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. They were standing in a vortex of swirling white mist, and Cullen saw vast, incomprehensible shapes moving just outside of it.

“Walk now,” Cole said, a worried note in his voice, “you two are very loud.”

He dragged them forward for a moment, and then they walked on their own, watching as the vortex shivered and bent until they were walking up, and up was forward, and there was no sky, only a tear in the mist that looked wrong, even for this place. Vivienne placed her hand on the tear, and tore it open.

She looked back at him, and her features were cold as stone. “Are you ready?”

Cullen drew his sword in response.

“Good.” They stepped through, and then everything was real and quiet and hurt even more than it had.

But that was Dorian in front of him, arms chained to the ceiling of a stone cell, with a man covered in plate armor and red crystals slowly choking the life out of him.

The man’s back was turned; it would be cowardly to stab him this way.

Cullen didn’t hesitate to plunge his steel through the man’s chest, and twisted the blade on its way out. He shoved the dying man to the side as he rushed to hold Dorian’s battered face aloft. His features were barely recognizable, his tanned skin mottled with dozens of bruises, his nose a broken mess of swollen flesh. The man’s dark hair had been torn out roughly in patches, but his eyes, his beautiful gray eyes, latched onto Cullen like a lifeline.

“Ama…tus?” Dorian brokenly whispered, and then coughed up blood wetly. “I must be dreaming.”

“No, no, it’s me, we’re here,” Cullen said frantically. “And we’re going to get you out right now, Dorian. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Dorian smiled crookedly, blood spilling from split lips, and then his eyes fluttered shut. Heart in his throat, Cullen gently felt for a pulse, feeling relief flood his body as his fingers found one.

“We need to get him out of here now,” Cullen said urgently. “He needs medical attention immediately.”

He felt Dorian’s bodyweight drop onto him as the shackles suddenly came loose, Cole appearing by his side.

“They’re coming,” Cole whispered, “and they are all made of rage.”

“Then they shall die,” Vivienne said, and drew a sword of shimmering light from the air, a barrier of bent air springing into being around her person. “Their existence offends me.”

The first of the Red Templars came, sword drawn, and arced his blade in a wicked rush at Vivienne’s exposed neck. Vivienne calmly waited for his sword to rebound harmlessly, and then severed the man’s legs from his torso.

“I’ll have to get this cleaned later,” she remarked as blood splashed over her previously spotless white robes. “How rude of him.”

The next Templar rounded the corner and Vivienne made a sharp gesture with her free hand. The Templar froze, and Cullen could see the thin sheen of ice coating his neck. With another wave of her wrist, the Templar’s head rolled from his body. Another three rounded the corner, and Vivienne strode to meet them.

“The only reason you ever bested me,” she said, enunciating each word clearly as she cut limbs from bodies with the cutting grace of a master, “was because you took me by surprise, and one of your rogues bruised my back with a dagger. That will not save you this time.”

Another twirl, a blinding flash of light, and the room was clear again. Vivienne turned back to Cullen and Cole, raising one perfect eyebrow.

“Posturing aside, I will not be able to maintain this pace indefinitely. Cole, could you lead us out?”

Cole nodded, and ran silently through the room and began to lead them up the stairs. Cullen hoisted Dorian onto his back, sending prayers fervently to the Maker to let them make it through this. He kept his sword drawn, just in case.

The next room held a commander, a massive hulking brute with twin spires of red crystal stretching from his hands. Vivienne drew up short and prepared to face him, only to step back as Cole’s daggers pushed themselves out from the Commander’s neck.

“More feet are coming,” Cole said urgently. “We need to run up,” and then he led them to another flight of stairs.

Cullen’s legs burned from the strain of carrying Dorian as well as his armor, but he pushed through it. Sweat poured down his brow and into his eyes, making it difficult to see, but Cole’s voice kept him heading the right way.

He heard the sounds of battle around him, and the soft hum of Vivienne’s strange sword cutting through the air. Nothing ever got close enough to touch him. Maker, that woman was terrifying. Cullen had never been more grateful to have her on the Inquisition’s side.

Eventually the stone gave way to sunlight, and the three emerged from an underground structure. Cullen recognized Therinfal Redoubt behind them; he hadn’t known the keep had a hidden prison.

“This way,” Cole said, leading them into the forest, “there is no red here, not yet.”

They ran for what seemed like hours, until all three were ready to collapse. Then Cullen gently lay Dorian on the ground, wincing as he looked over his lover’s many, many wounds in greater detail.

“Can you take a look at him?” Cullen asked Vivienne desperately. “I know your specialty isn’t healing magic, but anything you can provide…”

Her expression softened. “I will do what I can.” She knelt over Dorian, whispering something beneath her breath, and Cullen watched as a soft green light poured from her fingertips as they danced over Dorian’s bruises. Some of them faded, and Vivienne sagged in exhaustion.

“Thank you,” Cullen said quietly, looking at her face, still strong and proud at the brink of collapse. “You are a greater ally to the Inquisition than it will ever know, and a greater friend.”

He thought he saw Vivienne smile, but he couldn’t be sure. She turned away, then, lying down as well.

Cullen turned back to Dorian, brushing a wayward lock of hair out of the unconscious mage’s eyes.

“You’re safe now,” Cullen whispered. “You’re safe.”

***

A week later, when Dorian had finally woken up, Cullen was the first to visit. The patches of missing hair on the mage’s head were slowly starting to fill in, and a healer had deftly reset Dorian’s nose and dealt with the swelling. Poultices and healing magic had sped along his recovery as much as they were able.

Dorian smiled when Cullen sat next to him and clasped his hand.

“Missed me that much, Amatus?” the Tevinter asked, his voice already regaining its charm. “Had I known it would cause this much of a stir, I would have sacrificed myself ages ago.”

Cullen frowned, squeezing Dorian’s hand. “Don’t joke like that, Dorian. You almost died. I…” He paused, struggling to find the words.

“It’s alright, Cullen,” Dorian said, voice softer this time. “I understand. I won’t scare you like that ever again. And I still have yet to properly thank you for the rescue,” he added with a wink.

Cullen groaned, the serious mood now gone. “Maker’s breath, Dorian, you’re still covered in wounds. That can wait.”

The gray-eyed mage pouted. “But what if I don’t want to wait?”

Cullen smiled. “You’ll have to find a way, Dorian. I have faith in you.” He noticed movement at the door, out of the corner of his eye. “And besides, I think you’ll find ways to distract yourself for a while.” He kissed the mage’s hand gently. “I have to go now. I’ll be back soon.”

Cullen stood up, ignoring Dorian’s grumbling, and walked out the door. He nodded at Vivienne as she passed; she was holding what looked like a very rare bottle of wine in her hands, though he was a terrible judge of such things.

“I wanted to thank you again,” Cullen started, but Vivienne held up a hand.

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” Vivienne said, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. “If you’ll excuse me, I thought Dorian might appreciate this vintage.”

Cullen smiled. “I’m sure he will. And Vivienne?” He said, and she turned back to him one last time. “I will never forget what you’ve done for him, and for me.”

Her smile was full this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be reached at mnemosius.tumblr.com. My ask box is always open for prompts!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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